In a letter to Robert Hooke, Isaac Newton wrote: "If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants." I feel the same way, both in research and in life. I'm grateful for what I've learned from others, and I'd be honored if my work or experience helps you move forward.
I was born in a small town less than 80 miles by road from the border between China and Kazakhstan. My family relocated three times within the same region, but the second place we lived — where about 50 families resided — left the most lasting impression on me. That tight-knit community, where two languages were spoken, was rich in cultural traditions and offered a truly unique and beautiful way of life. You can get a glimpse of its charm from the picture here. I introduced this peaceful place to every friend who visited me, and I’m always eager to share its beauty with more people.
Imagine this: it’s around 6 a.m., and your mother gently wakes you. Together, you follow the horses and oxen to the open pastures of a breathtaking landscape. Under the soft warmth of the rising sun, you breathe in the crisp morning air, listen to the animals rhythmically chewing fresh grass, and watch them drink from clear, spring-fed streams. Can you imagine how special it would be to share such a moment with your own children?
The oxen had a mischievous streak. Sometimes, instead of taking the long route home before sunset, they would leap into the river to save time and energy. Even the sharp whistles from the wrangler trying to keep them from crossing couldn’t hold them back. Watching them plunge into the water and paddle determinedly to the other side was pure joy for me as a child — one of those small, unforgettable pleasures that made this place feel truly magical.
As the first person in my family to step beyond our small community and earn a doctoral degree, I carry these memories with deep pride and gratitude. By sharing my journey — one rooted in a quiet village and shaped by humble beginnings — I hope to inspire my children and others who visit my website to dream boldly, strive higher, and value the importance of preserving a clean, simple environment for future generations. If I could follow this path, I truly believe they can go even further.
I feel fortunate to have gone to college instead of following my family’s original plan for me — either managing sheep in the mountains or applying for about 40 acres of farmland for cropping. My work experiences, such as spending weeks picking tomatoes during harvest season, joining pipes outside construction sites, and working full-time in a fast-food restaurant, taught me that sitting in a classroom is far more comfortable. But no one has told me what came next, and I had no clear idea about my future.
During the first two years of study, our courses did not directly relate to our specific major. We often asked teachers, senior students, and classmates what exactly we were learning and what kind of work we would do in the future. They were all very kind and talkative, but somehow, I still couldn’t fully understand their answers. Fortunately, I did not waste time on computer games. I had five incredibly friendly roommates who encouraged me to explore whatever I was interested in. They were like a team offering me constant spiritual support, and they also gave me both the emotional and physical space to focus on what I truly loved. At one point, this encouragement led me to embark on my first biking journey, which was also the first time for me to really have some conversations with two foreigners, a German sister and his brother.
The distance from Xinjiang Agricultural University to my hometown is over 600 kilometers by bike or on foot. Determined to make the journey, I set off on my bike, riding for half a day before reaching my first stop: Shihezi City. Luckily, I had an aunt living there — free accommodation! It was the perfect opportunity to explore this "famous" city that I had long heard about.
I decided to spend a whole day in Shihezi. With guidance from a college friend who also lived there, I toured the city and enjoyed some amazing local food. I brought my bike along during the day as well — at that time, I was completely in love with cycling.
On the third day, I biked from Shihezi to Wusu City, where I stayed with another college friend, Lei. His hospitality deeply touched me — he treated me to dinner and even bought me a swimming ticket. I felt truly spoiled by the kindness of my college friends, and their generosity made the journey even more memorable.
Day four marked one of the most challenging days of my life. I rode over 200 kilometers — the longest distance I’ve ever covered in a single day (whether it was 208 or 218 km, I can’t quite recall). The route consisted of a single road, essentially a freeway — one of the few where bicycles are actually permitted.
The ride was grueling: no trees, no shade, and a light wind that made pedaling even harder. Yet, something amazing happened. I met two cyclists from Germany who were traveling across countries by bike. Though I had studied English for years, this was the first time I spoke with native speakers in a real-world setting. I tried my best to communicate—and I did understand their story.
Their journey was eye-opening and inspiring. I’d never considered biking around the world, but after meeting them, a quiet voice in my heart asked, “Could I do this?” And then the question shifted: not whether I could, but who I am—and what I should do with my life.
That summer, I worked at a fast-food restaurant to pay off my bills, then biked about 600 km back to school. It was a packed break, and it reset my mindset: work hard, study hard, and enjoy life with my schoolmates. Soon after, a one-year visiting-scholar opportunity at Hohai University, a school with a great reputation, appeared. With my schoolmates cheering me on — and the thought of cycling again — I applied without any hesitation.
The students at Hohai University impressed me deeply. On the first day of the fall semester, the lecture hall was almost full—four different classes of students had taken nearly every seat. At the beginning of class, the instructor took attendance. He called the first student’s name twice, but no one responded. He paused and asked where she was from and whether she would arrive on time for the new semester.
A few students answered, “She’s from Urumqi, Xinjiang.” Hearing that made me excited—Urumqi is my hometown. But I also felt a little awkward: someone from my hometown was missing class without notice. Then the students added, “She went to Germany for an exchange program.” That completely surprised me. People around me were casually talking about studying abroad, as if it were normal. In that moment, I realized how limited my world had been by what I had seen so far. Even though I didn’t know her, just hearing her name planted a seed in my heart.
At the time, my life was still centered on a simple rhythm: study hard, play hard. I was also thinking about another long bike trip after my visiting year. But I wasn’t sure whether I could ride all the way back to Xinjiang, because I didn’t know how much time I would need to prepare for the entrance exam for a master’s program. In the end, I chose a different route. I cycled to Zigui, a small city more than 1,000 km from Hohai University, where you can see the world’s largest hydroelectric gravity dam—the Three Gorges Dam. After that, I took the train back to Urumqi and began preparing for the exam to enter graduate school.
TBD
